


How to lose a straight enemy in 10 easy steps

by Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire



Series: How to lose a straight enemy in 10 easy steps [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Awkward Sexual Situations, Baz doesn't, Baz has a buttery cock according to Simon, Baz is cocky and plotting, Baz is curious about tongue piercing and Prince Albert, Baz is very determined, Baz read too many magazines at the hairdresser, Blushing Simon Snow, Blushing Tyrannus Basilton ”Baz” Pitch, But Niall is getting sick and tired of this, Butter, Cock Piercing, Cock Worship, Colors, Gay Simon Snow, Gay Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Gentle Simon Snow, Holding Hands, How far is Baz willing to go? -- Pretty far, Idiots in Love, Inappropriate Humor, Jealous Simon Snow, Large Cock, Licking, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Niall is too good of a friend, Niall is very close to being punch by Simon, Niall know this, Niall won't get punched, Nipples, Oblivious Simon Snow, POV Alternating, POV First Person, POV Niall, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Pining, Pining Simon Snow, Pining Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Playlist, Poor Niall, Protective Simon Snow, Remastered spells, Scents & Smells, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Sharing food is sexy, Shirtless, Should Niall be worried? -- Yes, Simon Snow is Gay for Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon is confused, Simon is less confused now, Simon is very interested in anything that has to do with Baz’s body or Baz in general, Simon is well... Simon, SnowBaz, Soft Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Stupidity, Swords, The author loves Niall too much for that to happen, There's so much pining going around, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Loves Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch in Jeans, Watford Eighth Year, Which just happens to be porn, anything to remind Simon of Baz even though he doesn’t get it himself, can you blame him?, he just doesn’t know it, niall knows everything, wanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23157277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire
Summary: [Explicit] 18+ Simon and Baz.This also explains the wanking.I’ve been listening to Snow wank, while standing on the opposite side of the door to our room, twice a week for three years.Snow has developed quite a routine for wanking.It is a well known fact that Basilton is quite the plotter. That is what Simon thinks anyway. And yet, when Baz is actually scheming, Simon is none the wiser.Or how Baz is determined to seduce Simon at any cost and poor Niall is pulled into his best friend’s most absurd shenanigans ever.How far is Baz willing to go? The answer will not surprise you — most definitely too far.Inappropriate humour.
Relationships: Niall & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: How to lose a straight enemy in 10 easy steps [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027746
Comments: 90
Kudos: 269





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of love to my friend and beta Blue ([mybluebucketofsnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluebucketofsnow/pseuds/mybluebucketofsnow)). 💙  
>   
> Playlist (Spotify): Only the first song isn’t in English.  
>   
>  **[How to lose a straight enemy in 10 easy steps](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/71WuOIucAWTCd6PKh1Deua?si=3s9H4pOsScup1xgN88t9GQ)**

# BAZ

This is mine and Snow’s last year at Watford. As you all know my goal has been to die from a stab wound to my undead heart made by Simon Snow while confessing my love to him.

It has been a very reasonable objective and I was convinced that it would work. ( _Why wouldn’t it?_ ) 

Unfortunately, there have been horrendous rumours about the Mage and neither Father nor Fiona wanted me to come back for my final year. 

The Families are concerned that the Mage might try to take out all the children in their sleep to eliminate any competition. (The ones from the Families that is.)

That would have been terrible (there are so many children at school), but I myself wasn’t too worried. I sleep in the same room as Snow.

He would undoubtedly wake up if something were about to happen. Snow wants to kill me himself. (He wouldn’t let the Mage take that honour away from him.)

However, as I arrived back to school the doubt started to creep into my mind. What if Snow doesn’t care anymore? What if killing me himself means _nothing_ to him now? What if he lets the Mage to off me in my sleep?

That would mean that I would never get to tell Snow that I’m in love with him. I couldn’t let that happen. 

Right there and then I decided that I was going to find another way to confess my love to him. And I did because I’m smarter than anyone else at this school. (Even Bunce has no chance against me.) 

I may have extremely low self esteem in most departments (especially if it has anything to do with Snow or me being dead) but not when it comes to academia. 

_That’s where I shine bright._

This might sound silly to you but I reengineered Harry Potter’s polyjuice potion. Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me. I’m not an idiot. I didn’t make an _actual_ potion. 

I simply created a spell, based on the book and potion included. But I had to get my hands on a strand of Wellbelove’s golden hair for the spell to work. (I repeat — not for a potion.) 

And before you ask — no, I didn’t pluck the strand directly from her head. That’d be excessively rude. Vera — my nanny, raised me better than that.

But Wellbelove sheds like a Saint Bernard so it wasn’t difficult to ”accidentally” pick up a strand of her golden locks in class. 

I tried the spell one weekend when I visited Fiona. It worked. 

However, I didn’t want to look as tacky as Wellbelove does. She’s been walking around dressed in all white like a bride-to-be. Crowley, talk about _desperate._

That is why I went shopping, (after I took the necessary measurements of the body) and bought a beautiful summer dress in lightest salmon colour, matching sandals in a slightly darker shade with an elegant heel, a handbag and a nail polish that would go great with them and taken my mother’s rose gold hairpin with a little ruby to give the outfit more life. (Mother had impeccable taste.)

This might be the first time Wellbelove will look presentable and elegant. (Even though it’s not actually her.)

I needed to work fast both because you never know when the Mage might come for me and because summer dresses might go out of season in due time.

Wellbelove is clearly using a beauty spell on her hair, I managed to style it with my hands alone, because I like the personal touch more than a _simplistic_ spell. (But Wellbelove is clearly not a person one should ask about personal style or class.)

I pull off Wellbelove better than she herself does if I do say so myself. I’m superior to her in every detail and moment. 

Yes, I may have low self esteem and self value when it comes to Simon Snow and me being a vampire but I have no troubles in other departments. (Especially when it comes to style and my exceptionally good taste.)

Yes, as you clearly guessed I will take on Wellbelove’s appearance for 20 minutes. (That’s the longest I could make it last.) In that time I will get inside our room and let Snow know that I love him while pretending to be _her._

Of course it’s not ideal. But the Mage left me no choice. It’s his fault, not mine, because I need to confess my love to Simon before I die. 

Furthermore, death row inmates get a last wish, don’t they? Or perhaps it's the last meal… 

I’m not going to eat Snow, so I might as well tell him I love him instead _and_ I will bring some food with me for him, so there will be a symbolic last meal, even if I won’t be the one eating it.

I don’t want to deceive Simon but there’s no other choice. Besides, he’ll kill me soon enough and I get my deserved punishment in hell. 

I wonder in what circle of hell I will end up for this — pretending to be his girlfriend… I don’t have any malicious intent in mind. But that matters not in the grand schemes of things. 

My road to hell isn’t paved with good intentions—or bad—it’s just my road.

That is why I chose to focus on the positive aspects of the entire endeavour. 

It’s a brilliant plan, really. Snow will never suspect anything. They must be confessing love to each other all the time. 

* * *

The next day I proceed with my plan. I use Niall and Dev’s room for my preparations. (Niall supports me no matter what and Dev is away for the weekend.)

According to my calculation, Snow will be in our room right about now. 

I knock on the door. (Since Wellbelove clearly can’t enter on her own.)

“ _Agatha_?” Snow exclaims as he opens the door and looks a bit spooked. Maybe he’s worried someone will catch “his girlfriend” in the Mummers House.

“Hello, sweetheart,” I say and my heart skips a beat at letting those words out in the open. 

“Um- Hey,” Snow looks mildly uncomfortable at that. (Probably still worried about someone catching “Wellbelove.”) ”How did you get in?”

”I figured out how Penny does it and now I can do it too,” I lie. (I’m not off to a good start, since I assumed Wellbelove was already doing that — sneaking into our room. I know Bunce does it all the time.)

“Oh,” he looks disappointed. That’s odd. Perhaps I’m misreading his face and he _is_ indeed happy about the prospect of his girlfriend visiting him regularly. ”What are you doing here?” Snow asks instead.

“I came to see you,” I say and smile.

He frowns and then asks out of nowhere, ”Have you seen Baz?”

Has Snow figured it all out already? However, he doesn’t look suspicious…

”I don’t think so,” I try to stay vague. I’ve been lying more than enough for one day.

”What do you mean? It’s not like you could miss Baz if you see him,” he objects and almost sounds exasperated.

”I had other things on my mind,” I explain and try to look flirty. 

How does one look flirty?

”What’s more important than checking on Baz?” Snow exclaims and gives me a dubious face. Seems my flirting abilities aren’t good at all...

Crowley, does he still think I’m plotting against him? Is it what it’s all about?

”I was thinking about you,” I say and hope that this time it finally comes out _flirty._

”Why?” Snow asks with a puzzled expression. 

I’m not entirely sure what to answer to that.

”May I come in?” I ask instead because he isn’t inviting me in for some unknown reason.

“Yeah yeah, come on in.” Snow's eyes are shifty as I enter the room.

He’s acting odd around his girlfriend. Has he managed to see through my ruse? 

No, not possible. My spells are top notch. I inherited Mother’s natural talent and love for precision. (Something tells me my mother wouldn’t have approved my approach to magic in this particular endeavour.)

Is it my acting skills? Do I not look in love enough? (I feel more than enough in love but perhaps I don’t know how to show it properly after years of shoving all those feelings as deep down my undead heart as I could.)

I sit down on the bed and Snow practically yells at me, ”Aggie, don’t sit on Baz’s bed! He doesn’t like it!”

Aleister Crowley, I sat on my own bed without thinking. (It’s Snow’s odd behaviour that keeps confusing me and stirring me away from what’s important.)

_Pull yourself together, Basilton!_

There’s no space for error. Too many mistakes like this will reveal me as myself and I will lose my chance of confessing my love to Snow. 

This can surely be considered suspicious behaviour. Wellbelove would only sit on Snow’s bed, of course.

”Sorry, Simon,” I say and get up from my bed. I got to call Snow by his first name. There is a flood of happiness spreading through my undead heart

As I sit down on his bed instead, Snow gives me a puzzled look.

What, am I not allowed to sit on _his_ bed either? This whole interaction is leaving _me_ puzzled.

However, what surprises me the most is that within the span of a few minutes Snow already mentioned my name _four_ times.

That’s very strange; it’s not unprecedented for him to say my name, but I know he avoids it. (Or is it only around me?)

However, I have no time to ponder about this. I need to stick with my plan.

“How was your day?” I ask and smile at him.

Snow sits on his bed too and looks at me funny. He sure is an odd fellow. 

“Um- Fine. How was yours?” He asks.

We’re talking now, casually with no screaming or scowls for once. I feel butterflies in my stomach. That’s exactly what I wanted, _craved_ for years... 

Snow seems more at ease now. He must have just been nervous about getting caught earlier. 

“Better now,” I say and smile again.

Snow just looks at me, dumbfounded and says nothing. 

I take out a container with three sour cherry scones from my handbag. (I saved them from breakfast and warmed them up for him before coming over.

And I buttered them just the way he likes it — where you’re not sure where the scone is exactly under the mountain of melting butter.)

Snow’s eyes widen and the grin on his face is unmistakable happiness.

”Aggie! Thank you so much!” He exclaims, takes the container from my hand and starts devouring the scones at a rapid speed like a starved dog. 

I let myself look at him, relish it and _truly_ take him in. 

This is my only chance to watch Snow in such close proximity — we’re mere inches apart. My undead heart is beating far too fast and is also skipping far too many beats. 

Oh, how I enjoy watching Simon eat.

The way he eats would have been disgustinging on anyone, however, on him it looks adorable. 

Simon _is_ adorable, like a little bird that needs to be cared for and being fed twenty four seven within two hours intervals, preferably with butter. 

I would have done that of course. All I ever wanted was to care for him. 

But that isn’t in the cards for me — I’m destined to die on the other side of his sword.

However, I have a plan in motion and need to strike while the steel is hot as Normals say. I’m going to confess my love to him.

I will tell Snow as soon as he’s done with the scones. It has to be executed while he’s still happy just _after_ swallowing the last bite of half chewed piece of scone but _before_ his face will fall from being done with the scones. 

I’m very familiar with his scones face by now. There’s a narrow window of opportunity to gain his attention between him eating and him being disappointed that he isn’t eating anymore. 

”I love you, Simon,” I say while I still have this chance and my heart swells at finally being able to utter those three beautiful words.

Snow says nothing, he leans in very quickly and kisses me instead. That’s odd, perhaps he didn’t hear me. I also feel as though I’m taking advantage of him pretending to be Wellbelove. 

I’m not sure what to do since I don’t want to stop. (I never want to stop kissing Simon.) His lips against mine feel amazing, albeit a bit stiff, as if he’s nervous or uncomfortable. It’s probably all in my head. 

_I’m kissing Simon Snow for the first and last time in my life._

It feels wonderful because it’s _Simon_ but I start wondering if this really is a good kiss — there's just Snow kissing me almost too forcefully while seemingly uncomfortable.

Not that I know anything about these things. I could be mistaken. Maybe this is how a kiss is supposed to be… 

_I’m kissing Simon._

Finally after all these years. I’d rather have a very odd kiss than none at all. It still makes my head spin and my knees go weak. 

So can’t actually be bad can it? 

Perhaps I’m making it all up — how good it could be — in my head. High expectations could ruin the best of the moments after all. 

Or what is _more_ logical and reasonable explanation is that I’m not a good kisser. I’m bad at this. I have no experience with kissing. 

This right here is my first kiss ever and I’m not even using my own body. I almost forgot about that little detail. I need to stop now, it’s not fair to Simon, doing this — kissing while he thinks he’s snogging his girlfriend. 

I pull away. But before I leave I need to make sure to confess my love once again, (before Snow gets suspicious and figures out somehow that it’s me and not Wellbelove.)

I’m not sure he heard me earlier. That is why I’m going to say it again.

“I love you,” I say loud enough for him to hear. 

Snow says nothing and instead leans in and kisses me again, with _more_ force but not very enthusiastically.

Shouldn’t Snow kiss me (her) with more passion than that? 

_Crowley_ , this isn’t quite the romance I expected to see. But I’m not going to be dismayed but this. 

Perhaps Snow is a bad kisser. Just because in my mind Simon Snow is perfect and can do no wrong, doesn’t mean it’s true. 

Unless it’s _all_ me... Am _I_ making the kiss bad? Am I ruining a perfect moment with my utter inexperience?

No matter.

I got to tell Simon that I love him — _twice_ and he kissed me also _twice._

(That last part wasn’t planned.)

Snow must have heard my love confession this time at the very least.

Those were my wildest fantasies for so long. And I finally accomplished them.

_There you go, Basilton!_

Life is just like a fairytale. You get to tell the boy you’re in love with that you love him before he kills you. 

Life couldn’t get better than this _and_ he kissed me. 

(Even if he doesn’t know it’s me. I do feel guilty about that part — the kissing.)

I’m so overwhelmed by the kiss but also nervous. I know I need to leave, but at the same time I don’t want to stop. I’m selfish and a terrible person. (I’m not even a person.)

I also don’t know what to do with my hands. I accidently put one down on his thighs. I wasn’t trying to, my eyes are closed and my hands are trembling and I can hardly _think_.

Well, I don’t know exactly how I expected Snow to react. But I sure as hell didn’t expect him to almost teleport away from me while practically yelling, “ _Agatha_ , I don’t— I want to wait until marriage.” 

Aleister _Crowley_. That was unexpected if anything. I always assumed that Snow and Wellbelove were making sweet passionate love every chance they got. 

“Of course, I’m sorry,” I say because I don’t want him to start thinking too much about this.

And I don’t have enough time left for a proper discussion as to why he’s waiting until marriage in case Snow is planning on talking more about the topic. (I want to point out once again that I was in fact _not_ trying to touch his crotch.)

“I’ll need to get going. I chipped my nail earlier and have to redo the paint,” I say in lue of an excuse. (I’ve been telling far too many lies today.)

“Yeah. Um- I’ll see you later for dinner. I hear it’s roast beef,” he says and is finally overly cheerful again just like he was when he saw the scones.

Snow didn’t question my earlier statement at all. (Nailed it! No pun intended.)

At least Snow seems to perk up when talking about food. Actually now he does look very excited and happy.

“Yes, see you later, Simon,” I say and do _not_ call him “sweetheart” this time. Something tells me it wasn’t the right word to call him by.

As I walk out, I have a little more time to think and certain things finally start to fall into place. 

Snow isn’t having sex and he’s waiting until they are married because Snow is nothing if not the golden hero and would never take a girl’s virtue like that.

This explains Wellbelove dressed in white. She’s influencing Snow through her clothing. 

Yes, it makes perfect sense.

This also explains the _wanking_.

I’ve been listening to Snow wank, while standing on the opposite side of the door to our room, twice a week for three years. 

Snow has developed quite a routine for wanking. He watches me every football practice because he’s convinced I’m plotting against him during football. (Because he’s a moron.) 

After practice, we both return to our room. When I’m done in the shower and leave for the library, he starts to wank. 

I figured this out our fifth year, purely by accident. 

I forgot a book and just as I was about to enter our room I heard a few noises coming from the inside. (I have my vampiric hearing to thank for that.)

Of course, instead of interrupting Snow’s alone time, I stayed by the door and waited for him to finish. (Pressed to the door with my whole body and _especially_ my crotch and rutting against it, is more like it.)

At first, I just assumed it was a fluke. (Good timing and nothing else.) But as the weeks passed by Snow’s routine hasn’t changed. He’d get himself off as soon as I leave the room. 

Needless to say, I've been wanking alongside Snow for three years. I stayed a bit to the side by the door. Our room is at the top of the Tower.

Nobody has a reason to walk up the stairs. And nobody wants to get in the crossroads of our fights either. 

This was the perfect timing for my own wanking as well. A lucky coincidence if you will. 

After watching _Snow_ watch _me_ during football practice when I have every reason to look and smirk at him after every goal I score without him getting suspicious as to why I’m looking at him, I get to enjoy the _images_ of his face from football that are still fresh in my mind as well as the _real_ noises and moans I hear him make in our room while I assume he’s holding his own cock in a tight grip. 

I imagine him squeezing his hard cock and spreading precome around the tip, paying extra attention to it. 

Then Snow will start moving his hand up and down his shaft and perhaps biting on his lower lip because it feels so very good for him. (It feels exceptionally good for me listening to him moan and gasp, my cock constantly twitching from pleasure and desire for Snow.)

I imagine a few sweat drops would linger on his temples because Snow is straining himself, putting all his energy into a single deed — get himself off and explode on his belly...

Then add that to the fantasies of his naked body and cock and what I could do to his cock or his cock could do to me (I’m open minded), while standing on the opposite side of the door and wanking.

I would spill all over my hand with a groan of my own just as I’d hear Snow’s loud growling, and feel my undead heart settle into contentment and joy. 

Aleister Crowley. Those two times a week orgasms have been _extraordinary._ It’s almost impossible to explain the depths of satisfaction one experiences wanking and coming alongside Snow.

Neither my cock nor I myself have ever felt so _alive_.

I have no idea why Snow chose those two particular days for wanking. At first, I assumed he was wanking during all his free time when I was out of the room. I’ve constantly tried to catch him on other days, without any luck.

Still, this whole exchange with Snow today has left me somewhat confused. It feels as if something might not be adding up, although I can't put my finger on what it could be. 

I might need some advice and help to go through everything that’s in my head and try to make more sense of it all. Perhaps I missed some detail...

I’m going to mention this to Niall and get the much needed moral support. 

* * *

# NIALL

”Oh, yeah, Snow’s straight alright. This whole arrangement is bollocks.”

”Waiting for marriage is a valid reason not to have sex,” he presses like that’s what is actually happening here. 

”Honestly, Baz. I’m not sure who’s the biggest moron here — Snow or you.”

Basil cocks his eyebrow at me in disbelief, ”Whatever do you mean, Niall?”

”Snow isn’t waiting for the wedding, he’s obviously gay,” I state it out loud to him.

”What makes you think that?” 

How is Baz not seeing this himself?

”What I mean is that running away from his own girlfriend in _horror_ and wanking after every time he watches _you_ on the field isn’t heterosexual behaviour.”

And then the twat gives me a long contemplating look.

”Niall, my lad. You might be onto something here,” is what finally comes out of his mouth.

”You think?”

”Indeed,” he answers unbothered and I wonder how much attention he’s giving now to what I’m saying since Basil usually doesn’t miss sarcasm. In fact, that is his ”language” of choice. 

I don’t think he's _seriously_ listening to me…

”However, we might need to do some investigative work here,” he continues as if I have no choice over what he comes up with. Because he’s looking well, I’m going to say in a _plotting_ mood if anything...

Crowley, I really don’t like the fact that Baz uses ”we” in his statement. What is he going to drag me into? (We’ve been throwing curses at Snow for years, however, something tells me it’s different this time around.)

”Fine, what do you have in mind, mate?” I finally ask, giving up on any possibility of escaping my new fate of whatever his brain cooked up.

”Well, Niall. We need to see if we could provoke the wanking other times apart from after football. In case it turns out it has been a coincidence and nothing else,” he declares calmly.

”A coincidence that’s been happening twice a week for three years in a row?” I ask because _really_?

He gives me a look as if _I’m_ the insane idiot here.

”I like to be sure. There's no place for error, Niall. This is too important.”

”Alright, mate. What insane idea do you have in mind then?” 

I don’t think it’s farfetched to assume that whatever Baz is planning _isn’t_ going to be sane. He has no self preservation skills — _none_ at all. Basil set a chimera on Snow once to try and scare the bloke. It almost killed them both.

His gaze is far away when he answers, ”Don’t worry, I’m on it. I’m already compiling a list of possibilities…” 

Baz isn’t paying me any more attention. He’s stuck in his own world…

After a moment I hear him murmur, ”We’ll need a good spell for that... Yes, we will certainly need something powerful enough to burn through my button up...”

” _Baz._ ”

He doesn’t answer.

Oh for Crowley’s sake, I raise my voice, ” _Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch!_ ”

Finally, the lunatic gifts me with some awareness.

”Pardon me?”

”Have you by any chance forgotten that you’re flammable?”

”Of course not. Why would I?” Basil looks genuinely surprised.

”You’ve been just talking about ’burning’ through your button up.”

”Oh, that. Don’t be silly, Niall,” he cocks his brow at me _again_. ”I meant a chemical burn, of course, perhaps a strong variation of acetone…”

 _Crowley_ , this doesn’t bode well does it? I’m suddenly so very _very_ sorry I asked…

And now I have no other choice than to stay close and keep an eye on him. Who knows what he’ll end up doing if left to his own devices. 

Sometimes it’s extremely hard to be Basil’s friend, and this might be one of those times. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely beta Blue challenged me to write flash chapters (1k or less.) The prologue is longer and so will be the epilogue. But since those are not real chapters — they just don’t count. (I definitely made that rule up myself.)
> 
> The updates might be very slow because most days are just not ”writing” days. 
> 
> Thanks to [Fogo_Ilse_of_FIRE2121](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fogo_Ilse_of_FIRE2121) for being the first person to read the roughest draft of this chapter (more an idea than anything) back in December and sending much needed emotional support my way. 💙
> 
> Thank you for suggesting that Baz uses a personal item in the outfit, that eventually became his mother’s hairpin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously I decided that I have to go with precise 1000 words per chapter, just to make things more difficult. So it has been hell and also very fun too.

# NIALL

”I’m going to accidentally on purpose ruin my shirt, take it off and show off my body. I might touch myself, but can’t do it in a sexual manner, I don’t think. You need to see if he’ll get aroused,” Baz states _casually_.

“You want me to spy on Snow and see if he’ll get a stiffie?”

His expression turns serious, “Is looking at an aroused bloke making you uncomfortable? Please tell me if it does.”

“No, that’s not quite it, that’s not _the_ issue. This is madness, Basil.”

“I have to see if our suspicions are correct. Surely you can understand the importance of this observation.”

”Can’t you do it?”

The brat actually raises his eyebrow at me and gives me the most condescending look.

”Snow can’t see me watch him.”

“Fine,” I agree. (Not like I have any other choice.)

“Good man.” 

* * *

”You have to do it, Niall — cast the spell.”

”Why?”

”No one will believe I’d muck up a spell. I’m too brilliant for that,” he smirks.

”Oh yes, I forgot.” I roll my eyes, ”All of us are but simpletons bathing in the glory of your intellectual superiority.”

He nods, ”You’re catching up.” 

Baz misses sarcasm _again_. If he keeps thinking with his dick, he might lose that ”intellectual superiority” he’s so fond of.

Basil wrote a script for me to follow. (Because of course, he did.) 

”This isn’t some improv class, Niall. We need to account for everything.”

* * *

”I’m feeling under the weather... Niall, be a dear and cast **Hair of the dog** on me. I accidentally misplaced my wand.”

Bloody hell, he’s overdoing it already with the way he says it. 

My role is worse in a way — I’m watching Snow since that’s what I promised to do. 

What has my life come to? Perhaps, _I’m_ the true idiot.

”I’ve got you covered,” I answer and hope I’m not overplaying myself. 

I cast **Nail** **of the dog** pointing my wand at Baz with perfect precision. 

It’s a strong spell for removing heavy paint and could have hurt him if I were to cast it towards exposed skin. (Why _am_ I going along with this?)

”Niall. What have you done?” Baz exclaims overly dramatic.

Snow leaps to his feet, sends his chair flying.

”I’m so sorry. Are you allergic to the chemical?” I hurriedly ask because it looks as if Snow is ready to run towards Basil.

”Why, yes, I _am_ allergic.” 

”Oh, no!” Snow seems indecisive on what to do now.

”Indeed, I better take it off before a rash settles in...” He’s rolling each word off his tongue… _Great snakes..._

”Oh, how unfortunate and embarrassing…” Basil says while _slowly_ taking his shirt off and then touches himself. 

”I hope nothing got on me. I have very sensitive… _skin_...” Baz declares that last part while his fingers are on his _nipple_.

Crowley, this seems more of an intro to a really bad porno if anything.

Snow is still standing up, unabashedly staring at Basil, practically eating him with his eyes.

I can clearly see a bulge in Snow’s trousers since as per agreement I’m sitting by the desk next to him. 

* * *

”Come on, Niall. Let’s go to the library. I need top marks in this class,” Baz says while making a spectacle of ignoring Snow, who’s still starring.

Those two are going to be wanking within half an hour — tops!

* * *

# BAZ

_Come on, Snow, wank for me…_

I’m waiting impatiently by the door, awfully worried. 

What if all of this _was_ a case of simple coincidence? 

What if he doesn’t want me? 

Snow might as well strike me with his sword; my will for life will fall exponentially after first getting my hopes up.

# SIMON

Thank magic Baz didn’t get hurt earlier. (He shouldn’t let others cast spells on him, no one is as smart as him.)

Baz is at the library now, probably breathing heavily while reading, turning pages with _elegant fingers…_

I wonder if he’s still not wearing a shirt…

Not that I’m thinking about Baz while wanking... about his mouth or hands on me… definitely not...

# BAZ

I shouldn’t have worried. Snow starts wanking immediately.

As I palm myself through the fabric I exhale slowly, my nerves settled and erection ready.

I’m excited; my cock is _throbbing_ from anticipation.

Then I unbutton my trouser and finally take my cock out. I’m already hard — that’s all Snow and his gazes during class. 

I wasn’t looking at him, maintaining ignorance. 

However, I felt his eyes on me, putting me ablaze, as in making me excessively aroused. 

I magick myself well-lubed and wank to the noises coming from our room — Snow moaning while naked (I assume) and wanking. 

It feels _so_ good. 

Better this time because I now suspect that Snow is turned on by me. At least I hope he is. (I need him to be for any resemblance of sanity I’ve left.)

Crowley, my cock twitches at the thought of Snow taking me in his calloused hand and squeezing slightly and then moving along the shaft, working up a bit of speed, while looking in my eyes and biting his lower lip. 

I want to see him do that. I want him to touch me _and_ my cock. 

I want to touch Snow, to make his cock hard and then make it explode as it has never done before. I want him to moan my name into my mouth and feel the taste of his lips on mine.

While listening to him orgasming with a growl and ” _Fuck…_ ” I come with a gasp myself. 

After I **_”Clean as a whistle”_** and tidy myself up, I leave for the library, like always after wanking with Snow, well alongside him… for _now._

* * *

# NIALL

”There you go, we’re done _._ ”

”Don’t be ridiculous Niall, we’re not even close.”

”What more?” Or a far better question, how _unreasonable_ will it be? 

”Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

That’s what worries me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, I’m using the word ”sword” in this fic only in its basic meaning and apparently that just seems weird now. ”Summertime” has ruined swords both for me and my beta...  
> If you feel the same, my apologies. I’m a terrible, terrible person that ruins good words.


	3. Chapter 3

# BAZ

I’m giving Niall a break for today. I don’t want him to have to experience too many shocks of aroused Snow.

I take a shower as I always do in the morning. However, I exit the washroom without getting dressed first. 

My hair is still wet (I hear that’s considered sexy) and I tied a towel around my waist. I decided against letting the towel hang off my hips. (I don’t want to make this _too_ obvious.)

” _Baz-_ ” Snow exclaims wide-eyed when he sees me.

”What.” I keep my cool since I’m playing the long game here.

”You’re- You’re always- get- dressed in the washroom,” he stammers and the blush on his cheeks is intoxicating. I want to do things to Snow _and_ his blush that include my tongue...

I settle my face into the most neutral and serious expression I can while standing half-naked in front of him, ”That seemed as such a bother carrying things around.”

”A- a bother?” Snow repeats while looking at my abs and my freshly ”cooled down” nipples. (I’ve cast **_”You’re getting colder!”_ ** on them.)

”Indeed. I have no time for that, Snow. I’m determined to finish the year on top of you.” _well.._ _you on top of me... But anything goes, really..._

”What?” Snow chokes.

”I said I’m determined to finish the year top of the class.” I turn to my wardrobe, pretending to be busy. This is the last time I’m giving any attention to Snow today.

I’m going to be doing a lot of that — ignoring him. Apparently that’s how one gets someone’s attention. 

I had no idea that was the case and spent seven years tormenting Snow in order to get him interested. 

However, according to a few magazines I browsed through while at the hairdresser — to pretend he doesn’t exist is a _sure_ bet in order to catch that particularly elusive fish. 

But as much exposed skin as possible apparently isn’t something that’s being recommended. 

Still, in this case, I’d say it’s a necessity. (Snow might be partial to my body.)

I wonder when he’s going to wank… I decide to leave for breakfast early, to see if perhaps he’ll get himself off now already, despite having my doubts about it. 

Surely, Snow would want to eat first.

Yet, it doesn’t take long for him to start wanking.

# SIMON

I need to wank _now_ before I go mad. (I’ve been hearing things when talking to Baz.)

I open the door to the washroom. Just to get more steam to the room, because the air is awfully dry and not because there’s still lingering scent of Baz’s shower gel in the washroom.

I also draw the curtains down, but only because it’s too bright and _not_ because in this light my own hands look almost alabaster with a hint of grey. I’m very sure that’s the reason.

Then I lay back on my bed and take off my pyjama bottoms. I wonder if it’d feel better to lay down on Baz’s bed instead. Surely his bed is better than mine.

Everything of his _is_ better. But Baz doesn’t like when I come too close to his bed.

Alright. I want to make this good. I’m thinking about _wet_ black beautiful hair and a fit ripped stomach. 

I’m _not_ thinking about Baz. (I’m pretty sure about that.)

I get the lube I’m hiding in my nightstand and pour some in my hand. I don’t dare to cast spells on my cock.

Then I take hold of my hard cock and watch my greyish hand as it starts moving along the shaft… Perfect...

This time it feels even better to wank, because I can think about long black hair that is also _wet_. I’d never seen that before. I mean, I’m not thinking about anyone’s wet hair in particular. Just in general — wet hair is very sexy. 

I’m so close to crying out of pleasure I have to bite my lip and then that feels nice too. I’d want someone to bite my lip. I mean I don’t want that, of course. That’s more of expression if anything...

Then I think about biting on nipples or licking them… 

And that’s completely normal. All blokes are into nipples, I think.

I come very fast all over my stomach and think about a different stomach that looks so fit. I’d want to come on _that_ stomach. As in general — fit ripped stomachs are very hot. 

Merlin, this was incredible. I clean myself up in the washroom and enjoy the especially good scent in there. 

I wonder if Baz is still eating, putting food in his _mouth.._.

* * *

Baz didn’t sneer at me during breakfast. He was too busy talking to his best friend. 

I thought maybe I’d catch a glimpse of his sneer during class or maybe he’ll make fun of me as he usually does. But he's too preoccupied again — with Niall.

”Niall, you don’t know what you speak of, this _is_ the best spell for it,” Baz suggests.

”How about this one?” Niall urges, (pushy much?)

”You’re a genius,” Baz praises him. 

The bloke can’t cast spells properly but he’s a ”genius” all of a sudden? 

What are they talking about exactly? 

”It’s a powerful spell but it doesn’t over-lube.”

Is Niall talking about a spell for lube with Baz?

”You need to show me how to use it, Niall.”

_What?_

I want to say something, but Baz doesn’t turn my way.

* * *

By the time the day is over he hasn’t looked at me even once. 

When he finally gets to our room pretty late, I hope he’d stay, to talk or at least to sneer at me.

But then _Niall_ shows up at our door.

”Care to play some footie, mate?” He suggests with a dumb smirk that makes Baz chuckle.

”I’d be delighted.” 

And then he leaves without even saying goodbye. Not that I care but I should probably watch Baz play from the window.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

# SIMON

When I enter the room I see Baz in extremely snug jeans. Why do they make them this snug? 

Those jeans don’t leave much to the imagination, not that I'm imagining Baz’s nude arse under my hands. Why would I?

He’s crawling around the room on all fours. I think he might be looking for something. 

And I guess I should help but I can’t move, not a muscle. (There might be a muscle moving but I’m very careful not to think about that too much.)

# BAZ

As soon as I heard Snow approaching our room I dropped a pen and am now looking for it in the snuggest jeans I own. ( _Yes_ , you’re correct I did magick them a size too small.)

I hear Snow’s ragged breathing. I can smell him too. It’s a struggle to pretend not to be bothered by him. By that I mean I myself am getting aroused by being in this compromising position with Snow behind me.

I hope he likes what he’s seeing. A size too small isn’t strictly comfortable on my crotch. But as Snow starts panting _no_ inconvenience will ever matter to me again.

I want to ignite a fire in him and come closer and touch me. I want him to tear my clothes off and let me do the same to him. I want to claim his cock and enjoy the feeling of him inside me. I want him to take me on the floor of our room. 

It’s clean — I spell it every morning. One could practically eat off it. I wouldn't myself but it is sanitarily satisfactory for eating from, if one would want to do such a thing.

Snow’s panting is driving me mad. Still, I don’t want to make it too obvious.

”Oh, will you look at that — there’s that pen I was looking for,” I exclaim in a mock glee and pick it up.

I get up and look at Snow. He’s flushed _and_ aroused. (There’s a clear bulge I want to get my hands on.)

”Off to the library. Those top marks won’t come of their own. I wish they would… _Come_ of their own…” I’m hoping I now have given Snow enough incentive and ideas to start wanking as I leave.

I wait by the door. Snow starts to wank immediately and I’m thinking perhaps I could go inside and see what will happen. 

What can I say I’m used to living my life on the edge of the knife — a true dare devil if you will. 

Fine, you caught me. I need to see his cock. I’ve been having dreams about it every night long before this whole ordeal started...

Snow pulls his covers on faster than the speed of lightning but I have good eyesight and fast reflexes. I’ve already absorbed everything I needed.

Not bad, I think to myself. 

Oh, who am I kidding — that’s a great looking cock. (The _only_ cock I’ve ever wanted.)

”I forgot a book,” I say in lieu of an excuse and raise my eyebrow at him. ”And what were you doing?”

”It’s a new spell I’m trying out,” he croaks out the most moronic excuse, since I know that he never cast spells on himself or anyone else if he can help it.

”Oh… How interesting. Perhaps you’ll share it with me. I like to absorb and feel the taste of... _knowledge_ …” That makes him blush even more and stare intensely at my lips.

I leave and have a good wank with real images of his very hard cock, fresh in my mind while listening to him pleasure himself and moan louder than ever, on the other side of the door.

# NIALL

”I got to see his erect cock just now when I walked in on him wanking,” Baz states with a triumphant smirk as he settles next to me.

When did Snow’s dick become this common of a conversation starter? And how can I get out of this? 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted for Basil. He wished to see Snow’s dick for years but why am I _this_ involved?

”Lovely.” I roll my eyes.

”Indeed,” Basil nods in agreement. 

Crowley, all his intellect _is_ going into his dick along with his blood…

”It’s not enough, Niall. We need to find a way to get to Snow. We need to do something that will grant me his attention, something he’d undoubtedly notice so all of this hasn't been in vain,” Baz says with a worry and a mad glint in his eyes. 

I don’t bother telling him that Snow’s eyes always follow him and have so for years, that Baz is getting the most attention from him every hour of every day. 

Neither do I suggest that he acts like a normal person and asks Snow out, simple as that. 

Baz won’t make the first move. It has to be Snow. 

And I want him to be happy, therefore I need to be supportive of whatever his next plot might be and hope I will be able to save him from himself if need be.

# BAZ

As I return to our room, I change into my pyjama but remain shirtless. 

Two can play at that game, Snow! 

Except he did that because he’s an inconsiderate moron who cares not that his queer roommate loves him and dreams every night about his naked body, while I’m simply trying to _seduce_ him.

”Why aren't you dressed? His eyes widened.

I sneer: ”I am. Are you blind?”

”No- not wearing- your shirt,” he stammers.

”Neither are you and you don’t see me pestering you about it.”

”It doesn't matter when I’m shirtless.”

I’m faking confusion, ”Whatever do you mean?” 

”You’re hot. I mean... I’m hot... hot in here…” 

”Quite right, Snow. It is hot in here.” I’ve just cast a warming spell on myself, it’s not _hot_. But Simon is with his blue eyes, tawny skin and the loveliest blush.


	5. Chapter 5

# BAZ

This is going to be the most disgusting moment of my life and I spend my nights draining rats down at the Catacombs. 

I take a deep breath and a spoonful of butter and lick it, slowly and in what I hope looks seductive and not plain revolting.

So here I am — licking butter in front of Snow, instead of eating breakfast even though I’d rather go for an apple.

But I can feel his eyes on me. He likes it because it’s butter and well apparently me, even if he himself doesn’t get it. 

Everytime I do something sexually suggestive, and then “pretend” to be out of the room, he wanks. 

Snow might just be as queer as I am and I need him to realize it.

That is why I’m going more aggressively with my efforts to seduce him. 

”Seduce” is what I want. However, what I’ve done thus far hasn’t gotten me any physical intimacy at all — _at all_. 

But at least he’s watching. He can’t take his eyes off me. (That’s still something.) I will get to him eventually. I’m a Pitch and don’t turn away from a challenge. 

In this particular situation, it’s a fight against his self-imagined heterosexuality.

I wonder what would happen if I smear butter all over my cock, would Snow want to _lick_ it?

What else can I do to get him interested? (I’ll do anything.)

# NIALL

Baz is practically deepthroating that spoon of butter.

Crowley, this is going to get out of control fast.

”What are you doing there, mate?” I ask carefully as I sit down on the opposite side of the table, as to not startle my best friend who’s clearly lost his bloody mind. 

He flicks his gaze over to me quickly, ”Seducing the moron,” and gives the spoon another long lick.

 _Are we sure Snow is the moron here?_ I think but don’t say out loud. 

# SIMON

I had no idea I see butter as something sexual. When did that happen?

I myself never ate butter with a spoon, since it’s not socially acceptable behaviour for whatever insane reason. 

But Baz never cares what people think. He’s fearless and currently looking very appetizing… smearing it on his lips and then taking the spoon deep in his mouth — really _deep_.

I wonder if he’d like other large objects in his mouth… Larger than the spoon...

I also wonder if I could lick his lips and if after consuming this much butter his cock would taste buttery… 

Not that I’m thinking about sucking his alabaster cock. 

Is his cock the same colour as the rest of him? It doesn’t matter. His cock would look great no matter the colour or the shape. 

I mean… If someone were into cocks, they’d surely like his. 

Did Agatha break up with me because of Baz? Are there more people present at school, who are into cocks and want his?

I doubt they have what it takes.

It’s safe to assume that he’s blessed with a generously sized cock so he’d need someone who’s used to handling large, long and heavy objects in their hands, (perhaps of metal) and knows their way around them. 

For example, anyone who knows how to tilt a blade just so. 

I happen to know how to do that perfectly in one smooth movement. 

I’m not saying that I want to tilt his _buttery cock_ just so, I don’t think… or put it in my mouth...

What were we talking about?

Oh yeah — Baz’s cock and all the shades and shapes it could be and how it might taste.

I bet his cock is better than butter or even better than roast beef or sour cherry scones. (It’s a fair assumption.)

Is there a way to find out for sure, I wonder.

# NIALL

”Perhaps I should pierce my tongue,” Baz declares as a conversation starter.

”You won’t be able to speak for two weeks.” 

”Oh…, ” he makes a face.

Basil is quite the talker. Of course, he’d never go for it. 

”Then I’d get a cock piercing, instead,” he continues.

”Prince Albert?”

He raises his eyebrow, ”Is that what it’s called? Seems strange…”

”Why on earth would you want one, mate?” I ask since he’s most definitely _not_ the type.

”I hear it’s sexy.” 

Basil has no idea what sexy means — he’s in love with Snow. Who’s not bad looking, sure, but is emotionally an equivalence of a bear cub who hasn’t learned how to walk properly yet.

”You won’t be able to have sex for six months, while it’s healing,” I add as an afterthought.

Basil looks devastated, ”I am playing a long game, but surely it won’t take that long to get to him…”

”Besides, Baz. You have a very low pain threshold.” 

”I most definitely do not,” he sounds outraged.

”Want me to pinch you?” I make a mock-attempt to do it.

”Niall, don’t you dare!” he exclaims loudly as he frantically moves away from me.

I rest my case…

That’s when I see Snow running towards us, reaching for his sword. 

Baz, as always, is actively pretending not to acknowledge his presence.

When Snow’s eyes finally meet Basil's the anger seems to give place to utter confusion. 

He shakes his head, glares at me and immediately goes back to his seat.

Crowley, Snow is _jealous_. 

Wait until Basil hears about this.

# SIMON

I thought… I don’t know what exactly…

What were they doing? Whatever it was, I don’t like it.

# NIALL

Baz looks at me perplexed, ”How is it that you know so much about piercings and healing time?”

”No reason,” I say and curl my tongue just right so I can feel the ball touch the gums of the inside of my mouth. 

I’ve had it since our fifth year. Basil was too preoccupied with Snow to notice.

Prince Albert I got last year. 

It’s true what they say — some people find it very sexy.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing 1k precise is killing me slowly. But just like Basilton I am _not_ shying away from a challenge. The precise part was my own challenge to myself but still.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, I am finally back with an update. Hope you will enjoy it. 💙
> 
> * * *

# NIALL

Basil and I stay late at the library. I'm studying, Baz is scheming his so-called seduction. 

Don't get me wrong, he still manages to do his homework while ignoring everyone’s presence and pretending to ignore Snow, (who’s staring at Baz while shooting daggers at me.)

”Snow was jealous,” I say.

Basil’s ears perk up immediately at the mention of Snow. ”About what?”

”You and I,” I clarify even though I know this will blow up in my face, one way or another. 

The day those two get together is the day I can finally breathe.

”Niall, are you sure?” he asks, part excited part exasperated. ”You _could_ be mistaken.”

I am not the one with a poor understanding of social cues. That'd be Basil and Snow. (I don't tell him that.)

”We still lack definitive proof that Simon is indeed interested,” he continues, already heartbroken. 

Are you freaking kidding me? 

”Oh, Snow is _very_ interested and I know what I saw.”

Baz cheers up immediately, ”That certainty works in my favour.”

”Happy to hear that.” I don't even roll my eyes. I’m genuinely excited. Perhaps now he’ll finally slow down. 

However, his whole face lights up as he says, ”I can work with that.” 

That mad twinkle in Basil’s eyes I know and hate is back too. 

Fat chance then. I suppose I ought to be surprised. And yet by now, I am used to the notion of my best friend being a lost cause.

Would it have been wiser not to tell him? Probably. Will Baz do something rash? Most definitely. 

Still, he's my best friend. I want him to be happy. Snow can't act like a normal person but Basil can't either. Those two are made for each other. A match made... well most definitely _not_ in Heaven, if one chooses to believe in such things.

* * *

The next day on the way to breakfast, Baz is beaming with anticipation. He hides it well, but after over a decade of friendship, I can read him like an open book.

”You and I are going to hold hands on the way to the dining hall,” he announces after a few moments and I should have known that is where this will be going. ”Are you alright with doing that?”

”If that’s all that you're asking of me, I can die happy.” I do roll my eyes this time. 

Crowley, these two will give me an incurable headache until the term is up.

# BAZ

”Ready?” I ask Niall. 

”How hard can it be?” He gives me his hand. Good man.

It’s unnecessarily grandiose to use an **Open Sesame** on the doors, but I do it anyway because I know Snow will be in the dining hall, and I may as well make an entrance. 

Snow eyes are already on me as soon as we step inside. (I am not looking in his direction but can see him from the corner of my eye.)

The moment his gaze reaches Niall’s and mine joined hands, he goes scarlet. I want to lick his blush. I also wish I was holding Simon’s hand instead. 

Snow keeps looking at us as we walk to the serving table. I make myself a plate without letting go of Niall’s hand.

”Baz,” Niall whispers, ”Are you sure you're not overdoing it?”

I raise my chin up, ”Of course I am.”

# SIMON

Today was a particularly turbulent day for me. I couldn't pay attention to classes or Penny, or anything really. 

Baz and Niall have been walking around, holding hands. I had to cut breakfast short because of that. (I'm not sure why it bothers me this much.)

They even walked together to Baz’s violin practice later. 

Fortunately, by the time I got back to our room after the last class, I managed to calm down some. 

I simply overreacted. I'm fine with the handholding. They are doing it because they are friends, nothing more.

Penny and I hold hands, more than I ever did with Agatha. 

So, I decided to believe Baz and Niall are just friends. Not that I care, because I don’t. 

Baz can be holding hands with whoever he bloody wants. He can do that with the whole school and it wouldn’t matter to me one bit.

But maybe just in case, I should start following him closely to make sure there won't be any more hand-holding with more people at school.

You get to have one friend — _one_. That’s the limit, that’s what Penny says. I mean she says three friends but I think it’s more than enough with one for Baz. That's all I can handle. 

I can hardly handle this. Something bad might happen to me. I mean to _Baz_ if he’s holding hands with someone dangerous. Wait no. I don't know what I mean exactly. No more touching for Baz. 

Except if holding hands doesn't mean anything why am I lying on my bed, wanking and imagining two hands holding? 

One hand has freckles and moles and looks poxed and the other is graceful, beautiful and has a hint of grey. It's the best fantasy I've ever had… I had no idea I saw holding hands as something _erotic…_

When Baz enters our room, I try to act cool.

”Had fun on violin practice?” I ask, trying not to bring up the fact that Niall walked Baz there.

Baz smiles at me. He looks different (excited maybe). ”Oh, yes thank you. Niall accompanied me.”

”How nice.” I hope my cheeks are only burning on the inside and I am not actually blushing. 

Baz puts his violin in his wardrobe and walks towards the door. ”Where are you going?” I snap, jumping to my feet and hurrying over to him.

Baz looks in my eyes and my cheeks burn even more.

”Niall and I are planning a friendly match of footie.” My chest contracts uncomfortably. ”See you later, Snow.”

When he leaves, I slam my fist into the closed door. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, these flash chapters are so difficult to write. And why in hell did I decide to make it Even More Difficult and do precise 1k? They are killing me. 
> 
> But I'm determined _not_ to abandon this challenge. Stay tuned for the next step. I'm hoping on delivering it next week. But. There are all these re-writes involved. 🤦🤣🤣
> 
> * * *

# NIALL

“Niall, I have a new idea,” Baz declares, and then immediately adds since he’s clearly not planning on letting me speak, ” _What brilliant idea?_ You might ask.”

Not really. Basil continues nonetheless… I can’t help but wonder if the reason my friend seems as though he’s short of marble is because of blood deficiency. 

Those two seem to be wanking a lot lately. Baz needs to hunt more frequently.

”We’re having pie with whipped cream for afternoon tea dessert today. You could feed it to me.”

”Can you even hear yourself?”

”What?” Basil asks, genuinely surprised. ”I heard sharing food is sexy.”

”Besides, Snow hasn’t broken yet. Henceforth we need to be more aggressive in our efforts and strategy.” Baz informs me as if we’re working on Magic Words group project.

”It always amazes me how you keep calling it _our_ strategy. I'm nothing more than a mere bystander in your doom of crazy.”

”I’m not crazy, Niall. I’m brilliant.” Baz actually tilts his chin up. He and Snow belong together. 

”And the line between true genius and insanity is where exactly?” I regret saying it. Baz isn't reasonable. Or well _less_ than usual. 

”You said you were going to help me.”

”Fine,” I conceive with very little to no enthusiasm. (Baz doesn’t notice.) ”You have my full support.”

”Goodman,” he beams. ”Because we need to strike while the iron is smouldering, as Normals say.” He has no idea how Normals speak, except for the ladies at the hairdresser he visits with his step-mum.

” _Hot_ ,” I correct him.

”Indeed,” Baz mumbles, his eyes glide over to Snow.

Aleister _Crowley_. Basil has one-track mind that's for sure.

Then he turns over to me, looking suddenly horrified. I roll my eyes. 

”I meant ‘hot’ as in _iron hot_ , I don’t have a crush on Snow.” I don't add that Snow is most definitely _not_ my type. I like them less ’murderous stalker’ and more ’going to the movies’ type. 

Baz nods. ”Not that I thought you’d ever steal my b—“ he pauses with dead silence, “I mean, you're too good of a friend.”

I speak before he gets too upset that Snow isn't his boyfriend yet, “Basil. Listen to me carefully. Snow _is_ into you. I know it, Crowley, the whole school probably knows it.”

He smiles dreamingly, ”You really think so?”

”I do.”

Bloody Snow needs to hurry the fuck up and ask Baz to be his boyfriend. 

”So you’ll help me? ”

# BAZ

“Sure, why not. What else am I to do today?” Niall is being condescending to me right now. But I don’t have time to care. I'm on a strict plan and schedule. 

I need Simon to be my boyfriend. Despite Niall’s assurance, I'm still not entirely sure he’ll ever be. 

* * *

# NIALL

When I get to the dining hall for afternoon tea, Basil is already waiting for me, buzzing with nervous energy, and a tray full of pie and whipped cream. 

I do feed him the pie. I might be the true moron here.

# SIMON

Are Baz and Niall— Are they a _couple_? Why do I suddenly want to punch Niall right in his stupid face, very badly? 

He's not even fit. Not that it matters, I’ll never have a chance with Baz.

# NIALL

”Maybe you could suck on my finger but not too much and no tongue, that’d be weird,” he makes a face.

“Oh, _that’s_ what would be weird? I thought me sucking on your finger is the weird part.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable? You need to tell me these things, Niall. Would you prefer that I suck on _your_ finger instead?”

“I would prefer neither to be honest. You’ve completely lost your mind, Baz.”

”I suppose I could suck on my own finger then…”

”Splendid.” I honestly don't know what else to say without sounding condescending.

Snow better come through sooner rather than later. How long can it take to admit to himself that he's gay and in love with his roommate who’s a _sure bet_? 

Baz was deepthroating a spoon of butter a few days ago and is currently doing obscene things to his finger. If that’s not a clear indication for Snow that Basil is _stupidly_ into him, I don't know what is...

# SIMON

”I can't breathe,” I accidentally say out loud. _Fuck_.

Penny doesn't even lift her eyes from the book she’s reading. Thank snakes for that. ”What’s that?”

”Nothing,” I choke out and go back to watching Baz.

He's licking and sucking whipped cream from his finger. I'm very hard. I need… Well… I better not think about what I need. 

But if I were to think about it, it would be Baz’s finger in my mouth, or vice versa.

# NIALL

”When we walk out, I think after holding hands for a while, you need to put your arm around my shoulder,” Baz tells me excited.

”Great. Let me finish my cuppa first.” I’m not trying to be sarcastic. It _is_ great that it’s all he requires this time. I’ve come to expect worse from Baz, so much _worse_. 

Basil might have been able to behave like a sane person if he wasn’t spending his days thinking with his dick. 

I know I am not being fair to him. Baz got it bad for Snow. It’s the kind of love every magician dreams about. 

We marry for life in the World of Mages. And let’s just say that it doesn’t always seem like the best idea and work out well and happily. 

But those two are made for each other, and I don’t only mean it as a compliment. 

* * *

# SIMON

Baz and Niall do seem overly close, don’t they? Walking holding hands as the best friends are supposed to. So it's not suspicious. 

Me wanking yesterday to a beautiful image of two hands holding means _nothing_. 

I'm fine. I'm completely fine. 

_What_? Niall is putting his arm around Baz’s shoulder. That’s…no, that’s _not_ alright! I can’t stand him doing that!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, I was hoping for an earlier update but I'm addicted to re-writing and need more people _to yell_ at me to stop. Apparently three just aren't enough. 🤣
> 
> So if anyone wants to yell, be my guest. That's what the comment section is there for anyway. Your screams are what keeps me going. Let's hope that didn't come out in a creepy way. 
> 
> Full disclosure, I am not even planning on promising a possible update within a week. That ship has already sailed. 
> 
> But I do have some good news for those of you who are reading ”If it's Not You”. 
> 
> I technically finished the next chapter earlier today, all the necessary re-writes are _completely_ done. Which honestly says absolutely nothing because I already added lots to it after the fact. 🤷 But there is a possibility that I post it tomorrow. 
> 
> Again, if someone would just yell at me often enough. 
> 
> Dear reader, hope you will enjoy this next step. 💙 Three more left and an epilogue.
> 
> * * *

# SIMON

”Simon, we need to break up,” Agatha says, catching up with me as I'm walking towards the pitch. 

”You already broke up with me last week, Aggie.”

”Yes… But we’ve gotten back together since then,” she answers, with an odd expression. 

”We have?” Oh, I didn’t know that. ”Sure, let's break up then, good idea.”

Agatha nods and continues although I have difficulties concentrating on anything she says, ”I hope there are no hard feelings between us and we can still be friends?”

”Yeah, yeah... Can we continue this a bit later though, Baz’s football practice is about to start. I can’t miss it.”

“This plotting is getting really old, Simon,” Agatha sighs.

“Yes, you're right, the practice _is_ getting really good.” 

Baz has been running around the pitch shirtless. 

It’s because he puts so much more effort into football this year and gets too warm and very hot… _so_ _hot_. (I’m getting lightheaded just from looking at him.)

I would _score_ , if he was in the goal. I shudder at the thought and feel my trousers stretching uncomfortably over my hardening cock.

Frankly, it’d be even better if Baz wasn’t wearing any shorts either. Aren’t there those nudist places where they do everything nude? 

Maybe our football team could use that idea… Who wouldn’t want to see Baz naked? 

# BAZ

“It’s official. I hate British Autumn,” I complain to Niall as we exit the locker room. The wind is chilling me to the bones, even though I’ve cast several spells on myself. 

Niall waves his hand in front of me. “No one is forcing you play footie shirtless in mid-October.”

I sneer at him. (Not in a bad way, but as an annoyed friendly gesture.) 

Then I look around so we won’t be overheard, lean in and whisper into Niall’s ear. “I think Simon enjoys seeing me shirtless.”

For some reason Niall rolls his eyes at me and shakes his head. “Come on, mate. Your soon-to-be-boyfriend just got here and is watching.”

Snow is fast. I don’t turn my head. I don’t want him to know that I am aware of his presence or affected by it in any way, craving his eyes on me, (hopefully undressing me). 

According to the magazine I read at the hairdresser, it’s important not to come off as desperate. I need to play it cool.

“He is?” Even better. “Give me your hand, Niall.”

# SIMON

Baz and Niall are holding hands. I'm not bothered by it. They are _just_ friends. 

* * *

# BAZ

After practice, Niall left to visit his grandmother for the weekend. I think he's just avoiding me. 

No matter. My plans for this afternoon do not involve my best friend. 

I am going to take a bubble bath with a silencing spell around the time Snow usually comes back to our room so that he might ”accidentally” stumble onto me.

And that is exactly what I do. I get to our room, take a quick shower. Then I fill the bathtub with water and use my favourite cedar and bergamot bath-bomb.

# SIMON

I must have just missed Baz. The whole room smells like his soap, just like it always does after he’s taken a shower. It’s quiet though, so I know Baz isn’t here anymore.

That’s too bad. I hoped to see him in his towel again. There is something about him like that. (I can’t really put my finger on it.)

Even though I’m disappointed that Baz is gone, I’m glad that he’s recently taken a shower. I bet the scent of cedar and bergamot — so utterly Baz — is even more potent in the ensuite.

I could take a shower too and _wank_ …

# BAZ

As soon as I hear Snow outside the door, I remove most of the bubbles from my skin. 

Snow enters and flushes more scarlet than I’ve ever seen before. He swallows, almost pornographically and I can’t wait to wank to these images later. 

I hope he’s getting a fill and is indeed enjoying what he sees. (I’m still not completely convinced he wants me. Snow keeps giving me mixed signals.)

# SIMON

Baz is laying in the bathtub — starkers. There are a few foam bubbles covering some part of him but not too much. Just enough to make him look more delicious. 

Naked Baz is a sight to behold. But nude _and_ wet Baz is something. It feels as if I am going to get a heart attack and die on the spot. (And his abbs look better wet too.) 

When a bubble pops on his lean muscular arm, I accidentally growl. 

“S-so-sorry,” I try to apologize, but all the words are stuck in my throat and I can’t help but wonder how something else _might_ feel in my throat too.

“Not at all, Snow,” Baz answers, his voice smooth as satin. “An honest mistake.”

His eyes are burning me whole. I always thought they were deep like the ocean. Now I’m thinking Baz’s eyes are like an ocean on fire, if that makes sense. 

It sure does something to me and I want to walk right into that fire and let it consume my whole being, making me burn more than my magic ever could. 

I don’t want to leave. I want to tear my clothes off and get into the bath with him. If only Baz offered me to join him.

”I’ll be out in a moment,” he says instead, waving his hand in my direction, dismissively.

“Ye-o- Yes...Okay...Sorry,” I’m too flustered to make any sense.

# BAZ

As soon as Snow leaves and closes the door behind him, I get out of the bath and hurriedly get dressed. And for once in my life I cast a beauty spell on my hair.

I’m in a hurry to get out from our room, stand on the opposite side of the door and get myself off to the noises of Snow’s wanking.

# SIMON

It’s official. I’m _definitely_ thinking about Baz while wanking. 

  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, finally an update.  
>   
> I'm not exactly sure when the next one will be. I've been worse at this than ever.  
>   
> And I feel as though I've cried my eyes out in the Notes in _too many_ fics by now. So I won't do that again.  
>   
> Point being, my writing is getting even more erratic than it was before for IRL reasons, amongst other things.  
>   
> Thank you for sticking with me through _every_ mental breakdown I've had, for reading, leaving kudos and commenting.  
>   
> You, dear reader and my beta Blue, are the people who keep me going. 💙
> 
> * * *

# NIALL

Baz asked me to meet him by the bench next to the entrance to the library.

So that's where I am on my way now.

I spot him, fidgeting on the bench, adjusting his uniform and I swear, fluffing up his hair.

As I approach him, my best friend looks like he's a cat who just ate a canary. A feeling of _unease_ creeps upon me.

What in Crowley’s name has he planned now? Can't be anything good, that's for sure.

“Hi mate,” I call after him, hoping and praying to any gay gods there are that they’d spare me from another headache of Basil’s shenanigans involving Snow.

“I'm so glad you could join me, Niall,” he greets me and gives me a wide grin.

Oh, this is most definitely about Snow. I try not to sigh bitterly.

“What's this about, Baz? Are we going to the library? I thought Snow wasn't there today.”

“Not so loud,” Baz shushes me, and looks around like a scared cat. “Take a seat, please.”

I do as he says and catch myself checking if there's anyone nearby.

_Damn Basil and his plots._

“You have to kiss me somewhere just not on the lips, because, no offence Niall but I’m saving myself for Simon.”

Great snakes, I should have known things have to get worse before they can get better.

I hope there will be a bright light at the end of this. And that it won't end with me stabbed by a sword by no other than Simon Snow.

“First off, none taken, mate,” I try not to roll my eyes, ”I would go as far as to say I’d prefer not to kiss you at all.”

I try not to sound _too_ condescending. Baz is obviously not well and requires an intervention.

And yet, here I am, continuing enabling him.

His face falls and I take a deep breath before adding, ” _However_ , I see now that there is no other choice unless I want you to do something even more stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he argues because he's stubborn and difficult, ”I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Yes, you’re trying to make the idiot jealous. I figured out that part all on my own, thank you very much.”

It's my own fault really for telling him about Snow’s jealousy in the first place. I have no one but myself to blame. When I noticed how jealous Snow was of the two of us at the library, I should have kept my mouth shut.

Merry Morgana, perhaps I am the idiot in this.

“You understand. Good then,” is what I get from him in response.

Baz doesn’t speak sarcasm anymore. He forgot his main and favourite language. It’s official now — he has gone _completely_ mad.

“Yes. Makes complete sense to me,” I should get a medal for keeping any annoyed remarks to myself. “And the second thing, you and Snow have _already_ kissed.”

My best friend sneers at me: ”Not in my own body, keep up Niall.”

Then he proceeds to roll his eyes at me.

Oh Crowley, give me strength.

“Sure.”

“Less talking, more kissing. He’s almost here,” Basil hisses at me.

“Of course, what was I thinking trying to _talk_ about this?” I mumble, not wanting to fight but wishing he’d just ask Snow out instead.

Truthfully I am not sure if reason will work on my best friend anymore.

”That is, if you're alright with it — the kissing?” Baz asks, looking concerned.

He's a wonderful and considered friend when he has time to notice anyone but Snow.

”I’m fine,” I state with conviction, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving him a clap.

The kissing won’t make me uncomfortable. It will, however, make me very worried over Baz’s mental health…

“That's settled then,” he beams.

”I'm simply worried about you,” I finally admit, possibly to no avail.

“Nothing to worry about. Kiss me on the cheek in exactly 30 seconds.”

“Alright,” I sigh, scooting closer to Baz.

He just nods, already stopped listening. No doubt thinking about this latest plot of his.

Crowley, and he calls _Snow_ obsessed.

# BAZ

I want to be so close to Snow that I could count his lashes. And then I want to do it.

I want, no _need_ , to do it. The moles and the freckles splashed all over his beautiful tawny skin, and then to count his lashes too.

What can I say, I am rather romantic after all.

“Let's just hope all my effort will actually pay up,” I whisper softly, more to myself than Niall.

I am not exactly excited over being kissed by Niall. He _is_ my best friend and I appreciate all his help, but I’d rather be kissed by Snow.

So I close my eyes and think of _Simon’s_ lips on me.

# SIMON

I'm walking to the library while looking for Baz. I wonder where he’s gone. I saw him this morning. His hair was falling loose over his cheeks. It suits him a lot.

Lately I've come to certain realisations. I want Baz — very much, probably _too_ _much_.

And it's more than physical. I have no idea what to do about it.

I don't even know if he's single. If Niall and he are best friends or dating. Sometimes it's hard to see the difference.

Just as I turn the corner, I watch a horrific scene unfold in front of me — Niall leans close to Baz and kisses him on his cheek.

Baz must be so excited, he closes his eyes. I clench my fists and walk to the library hurriedly.

They _are_ dating after all.

Of course they are. Baz is smart and fit. Anyone would want to be his boyfriend. Including _me_.

Not like I even had a chance. Baz is so out of my league.

I feel a heavy pull somewhere deep inside. It’s a new experience but I think that’s how it feels when one’s heart breaks.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is supposed to be 1000 words precise. That was very hard to do. My google doc and ao3 can't work together for some reason. 👀

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. 💙


End file.
